


Gross Study Rooms Don't Do Us Justice

by tofansesmuna



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Barbara and Adam aren't married, Beetlejuice is just referred to, F/M, Fluff, Studying, slight dom vibe from Barbara, the Maitlands are diabetically sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:53:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23200492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofansesmuna/pseuds/tofansesmuna
Summary: Barbara and Adam have a rough week and just want to get this project meeting done so they can be lovey dovey which would be much easier if the last person in their group had decided to show up. Fuck.
Relationships: Adam Maitland/Barbara Maitland
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	Gross Study Rooms Don't Do Us Justice

While known in many circles as kind, patient, and endlessly forgiving, the little cartoon thermometer in Barbara’s head can rise to near bursting when really, truly pushed.

Moments worthy of Barbara Anger usually require some form of injustice -- usually seen on social media, which she then immediately sends to everyone in her contacts.

But right now, on a day where she has already been pushed to the brink, it just takes a little bitty nudge. A little bitty nudge like trying to do something  _ nice _ \-- AKA, bringing lunch from Adam’s favorite bistro for their project meeting, having made sure to order that almond flour shortbread cookie he loves so much because his week has been just as less-than as her’s -- brought it to the study room, glowed momentarily underneath his gratitude and affection, only for them to unpack the goods and find said cookie  _ missing.  _

Oh, she could just spit. 

“It’s okay, Barb, really,” Adam’s trying to placate her, but no, sweet, lovely boy, it is  _ not.  _

“They weren’t even that busy, it’s just, when you  _ pay  _ for something -- and I got it for you! It’s -- ugh,” she plops into her seat, defeated. 

“This week has been awful,” she says as she covers her face with her hands.

A moment later, she feels Adam’s twitchy hands squeeze her shoulders. 

In a voice that sounds just as tired as she feels, Adam agrees. 

“It has.” He winds his arms around her from behind and lightly presses a kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry it has.” 

After a few moments, he realizes that this is a very awkward position with him hunching over, but he thinks it would be dumb to kneel on the ground behind the chair and he doesn’t want to move, because he can feel Barb’s breathing starting to level out and who is he to interfere with her healing process? That, plus he loves smelling her hair too much, which sounds so creepy, but it’s just because no matter how greasy and gross Barbara might claim she is on days without showering, she always smells good, and he kind of really missed doing this. 

It did make everything worse that he barely got to see her at all, but even besides that, his week has been pretty rotten -- a long series of tiny nothings added up into a pent up misery that makes him want to look forlornly skyward and whine at the universe for a while. 

They stay like this for a couple minutes, soaking in each other’s empathetic silence, until Barb squeezes his forearms and squirms towards her bag. Reluctantly, she starts unloading her laptop and notebooks for a group project meeting that she would now much rather reschedule in order to accomodate a desperately needed cuddle session with the single person she does not currently want to kill. 

_ Not kill,  _ she corrects.  _ More like...stomp on their toes. Then run away.  _

The two proceed to putter about, setting out their various supplies, both thoroughly ready for their third member. When Adam makes meticulous work of lining up his separate colored pens in the “correct order” -- according to the Adam Maitland Marking System -- she has to smile. 

“Oh --” he tugs out the thick green highlighter and stretches it out to her “-- here you go.”

“Oh! Thanks.” She plucks it out of his hand and tucks it back into her woven pencil case.

“Sure thing. Thanks for letting me use it.” He smiles, open and enthusiastic, “It’s -- gah, it’s so neat.” Barb laughs.

“Should I just get you an erasable highlighter for your birthday?”

“Yes!” He leans forward, placing his hands on the table and giving her a look she usually only sees when they’re midway into a makeout session. 

She laughs again, high and fond, and Adam seems to gather himself as he shyly edges back into his chair. 

They fall into a nice, productive quiet. Both keep their eyes on the clock as it edges closer to the scheduled meeting time. Eventually, Adam’s mind starts to wander away from his biology reading, and he finds himself musing over the identity of the other member of their group project. While groups had been chosen by the students, and Adam had happily written his and Barbara’s names together on the professor’s sheet, it turns out this guy was the only one without a group because he hadn’t been in class. So Professor Mesner paired him with Adam and Barb, because  _ apparently _ they were the only two person group. And gosh, the way she had said it that way, as if the two of them were causing so, so much strife and hurting the environment or something. 

It doesn’t really matter, though. He and Barb obviously would have taken the mystery man onboard even if they didn’t have to. He does wonder, though, why the name on the sheet sounded a little familiar, and why the only association Adam can draw is the sound of the student’s name being yelled or sighed out in frustration. 

“I keep trying to remember if we know this guy. Have you met him? I don’t think I have.” 

Barbara’s eyes shift to look at him. Her head was in her hand as she reads something on her laptop. 

“Mmm nope. I don’t think so. I haven’t at least.” Her head bobs up and down with each word. Adam hums curiously. 

Every single time he looks at her, he swears, a trio of angels starts playing a special song, just for him: one on the harp, one on the holy trumpet, and one warbling out with celestial sweetness,  _ “She’s out of your leeeeeeague, Adam. How did you land her, Adam?” _

Lucky for him --  _ very  _ lucky for him -- pretty much the only place Barbara and him were uneven was in the looks department. Everywhere else, they both hit glorious, sky-high levels of dorkiness. Before they started dating, she had recounted the several abandoned attempts of boys at her high school to get her in bed on the basis of her being on the cheerleading squad, blonde, and  _ beautiful  _ only to get cockblocked by her UN meetings, crochet patterns, and far-too-competitive-to-be-purely-charitable attendance of bingo night at the senior center. 

When delivered, this news sent the heart of 18 year old Adam -- an Eagle Scout, solo weekend antiquer, and shameless  _ Property Brothers  _ superfan -- racing. 

As if by fate, their freshman paths crossed in almost all of their gen eds and their schedules aligned with divine fluidity, giving them plenty of excuses to see each other and plenty of Friday game nights, Saturday morning flea market trips, and every coffee break in between. 

Only three months later, and they are official. Well, like...80% official. Maybe 78%. They’ve made out a lot, and they see each other as often as they can. Barb has made it clear that she’s attracted to him -- almost pointedly so -- and Adam, well, heck, as if there was any chance of someone  _ not  _ being attracted to Barbara? 

And yet, neither has said anything definite. Both playing chicken, seeing how far they can carry it without having to actually seal themselves into a locked-down fate of month-marked anniversaries and lovers’ quarrels. Even Adam finds himself a little antsy at the idea, which surprises him, because despite his hesitance, he’s starting to legitimately have to fend off the instinct to say  _ ‘I love you’  _ to this gorgeous girl. 

Barbara burps. 

She places a dainty hand over her mouth. “‘Scuse me.” 

“You’re excused,” Adam quips back on instinct. 

They continue their respective tapping and scribbling for about five minutes before Barbara sighs, clearly a little put off. 

“Where  _ is  _ he?” She looks around them, a bit uselessly, she realizes, as their independent study room’s window looks out onto an empty parking lot. 

“I don’t know,” Adam sighs back. 

Unbeknownst to both of them, the alleged missing partner had actually been approaching the building about twenty minutes ago (ten minutes late). When he saw the two embracing through the paneled window of the second floor, he took a mental inventory and assessed that he was not in the headspace for shit like that today; so he turned around in the empty parking lot (at a moment when both lovebirds had their eyes closed as they breathed in each other’s scents and found refuge from the world outside or whatever) and chugged away in otherwise plain sight. 

“Should I email him?” 

“Don’t you have his number?” 

“No, he wasn’t there in class on the day groups were chosen -- neither were  _ you, _ ” he gives her a conspiratorial bounce of his brows. Barbara bristles a bit. 

“It was important!” She counters with no real heat. 

“I know,” he agrees. “And --” he leans forward with a teasing glint in his eyes “ -- it was totally worth covering for you just to hear all about it.” 

Barbara groans. “Oh, you just think you’re so funny.”

“I do.”

“You have  _ plenty _ of interests that I don’t judge.” 

“I don’t judge!” He says, playful tone breaking for a moment of complete earnestness. 

“It’s just --” his grin interrupts his words. He’s smiling down at his textbook not looking at her as if he’s gonna burst out laughing if he even sets eyes on her --  _ oh _ , she will put a stop to this  _ immediately _ . 

Wielding her best sweet-but-stern voice, developed from years of babysitting neighborhood monsters, Barbara says in a gentle low-to-high, “Adam.”

Adam’s head jolts up and he looks at her like she just shocked him. After a block of radio silence and Adam’s eyes dancing around the room like he’s looking for his words on the wall, his gaze travels back to her. 

“.....Yeah?” He asks, voice noticeably higher. 

She tilts her head consideringly, taking him in with wide eyes that anyone else might regard as innocent curiosity; but Adam has come to know what it looks like when Barb’s gears are turning, and he has no idea what she’s thinking. 

Finally, she smiles. 

“Nothing.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I did want this to have more Beetlejuice but it kinda turned into a Barb/Adam relationship study cus I cannot focus lol.


End file.
